


Oh, How I Miss the Sound of Thunder

by fingalsanteater



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Chocolate Box Treat, Gen, Kayfabe Compliant, Loyalty, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for Erick to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, How I Miss the Sound of Thunder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Set right before the October 19, 2015 episode of Raw.

"Our brother is ready to come home," Bray whispered. "I trust you to help him find his way." His hands were on either side of Luke's face, fingers sinking into his beard. Luke closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. Before he could exhale, he was gone.  
  
He collapsed when he reappeared, body numb and burning with pain and pleasure. He coughed weakly, forcing the stale air from his lungs, and sucked in a new lungful, thousands of miles from where he had been just seconds ago. Traveling long distances always required a recovery period, though this time Luke wallowed in residual sensations longer than usual, the hard ground at his back anchoring him as he mindlessly drifted, filled with a lightness and electricity that was all Bray.  
  
When the last of the pleasurable feelings had faded, Luke staggered to his feet. The bushes in the front of the house were less wild than last he saw them, when he'd brought Erick here almost five months ago. It had never been any secret where Erick was. Bray never asked after him and Luke didn't mention it; they both knew it was only a matter of time until he came back home.  
  
Until then, however, Erick had willingly trapped himself in the decaying remnants of Luke's past life. Bray had insisted Luke keep his old house, his childhood home passed down to him when his mother died. Luke had never understood why, as Bray had helped him purge his life of everything else that didn't belong to the family. Maybe he knew they'd need it someday as a way station to shelter lost sheep.

Erick had nothing but what Bray had provided him, and even though Luke didn't consider this house his anymore, it was the only place he could think to keep Erick that wasn't actually part of their family's property.

"I can't do it," Erick had told him. "I don't want to be a part of this anymore." He'd asked for help and Luke had ignored his pleas for a month, not wanting to aid in his defection, not wanting to admit neither of them could go home yet.

Luke didn't bother knocking, pushing open the unlocked door with more force than necessary. This was the first time he'd been in the house in years, having just dropped Erick off at the end of the drive with information on how to find the spare key (in a metal box under the back porch stairs). He let the heavy door slam behind him, sound loud enough for Erick to hear. 

There was a strange tightness and heat behind Luke's breastbone that burned clear through the center of him and licked along his spine. He called for Erick. Only silence answered him.

A large book lay open, spine up on the couch. Luke didn't recognize it as one he had ever owned and wondered where Erick had found it. Something else was off too - the holes in the wall in the shape of his fist were missing, plastered and painted over like they had never been there - like he had never been there. He tried to take a deep breath, but the vice behind his sternum squeezed tighter. 

Luke didn't know what he had expected, but it hadn't been Erick making himself at home here, erasing the traces of the old Luke that had remained.

He needed to collect Erick. He wanted to be back with Bray.

The door that led from the kitchen to the backyard opened squeakily, the sound it made still the one Luke remembered.  
  
He met Erick's surprised eyes. After so many months, the first thing Erick greeted him with was: "What's wrong?" His hands and forearms were covered in dirt and some had been swiped across his forehead. 

Crossing the room into the open kitchen, Luke ignored the question and forced a response from breathless lungs. "He said you're ready to come home."  
  
Erick's brow furrowed, mind obviously filled with questions. Luke didn't give him a chance to start asking before pulling him into a rough hug, hands skimming over the sun-warmed, sweaty skin of his bare arms and drawing him close enough that he could feel the very faint thump of his heart.  
  
The shape of his body and the scent of sweat and dirt were familiar, comforting, and the tightness in Luke's chest lessened by a degree.

Erick sighed and looked at Luke with watery, wide eyes. "After everything, I wondered if he would still hear me."  
  
Lip curling involuntarily, Luke pushed Erick away. "Of course he would," Luke spat, vehement, stricken by Erick's heresy. "You've always doubted him."

"No," Erick said weakly, pulling out a chair and sitting down heavily, rickety wood creaking under his weight. "I don't - I've always believed." 

Luke kicked the table's second chair across the floor and it smashed into the counter cabinets with a crack. His anger was another familiar thing, welcome like the feel of Erick's body in his arms, and he almost sighed in relief as the tight, anxious feeling in his chest was subdued for a time. 

"Don't. Don't fucking say that," he said. "You - " he punctuated every word with a jab of his finger - "don't get to say that." He didn't say "You betrayed him," and he definitely didn't say "You betrayed me," because those were old grievances that were still so raw and painful if he let himself dwell.

It'd been easier to let it go when Erick had come back to him all those months ago, both of them without Bray and clinging to each other. Now Luke's found his way back to Bray after he'd been lost for so long, and he found he was still angry at Erick for purposely stepping off the path.

Erick didn't apologize. "It's true," he said, "You may be his favorite, but he still cares for me. You're here; he's sent you to bring me home." He paused and stared up at Luke with a puzzled expression, brow creased in the middle. "Why now?" He asked. 

Luke didn't know. "I told you. He said you're ready." 

"I've been calling to him for months," Erick said. "I wanted answers. I wanted to know why he abandoned us." 

Luke scoffed. "I was never abandoned." The word feels like a punch to the gut. "We -" he motioned to Erick "were never abandoned.  He gave us a gift, an opportunity, to make our own way. You threw it back in his face." 

Erick was quiet for a moment, worrying his hands together. Finally he said, "Don't tell me you didn't feel abandoned. I know you." He got up suddenly and started pacing. "Now that he's taken you back, you can just forget everything you felt before because he loves you again. But I know -" he pressed his hand to his head - "how you felt. So don't lie to me." 

Luke was so angry with him that he couldn't see straight. Despite Erick's pacing, he somehow found the neck of Erick's shirt and hauled him closer until they were face to face. "It doesn't matter," Luke said. "All that matters is him." He tightened his grip on Erick's shirt. "Have you forgotten how he saved us? He is my reason for living. He should be yours." 

"I -" Erick paused and swallowed. Luke didn't let up on his grip. "I missed that - that feeling like he's all I live for. I wish he'd never set me free. I want it back. Tell me how to get it back." Erick sobbed out his last sentence desperately and dug his fingers into Luke's bicep, clinging tighter to him. Loosening his grip on Erick's shirt, he didn't even wait for the bunched fabric to fall back in place before pulling Erick back into his arms. 

"Come home with me," Luke said, pressing his forehead against Erick's warm, sunburned one. "He's waiting for both of us." 

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the title from Eliza Rickman's [Lark of My Heart](http://elizarickman.bandcamp.com/track/lark-of-my-heart).


End file.
